


Library Grief

by AlpacaSoon



Series: Fire Emblem Heroes Drabbles [28]
Category: Fire Emblem Heroes, Fire Emblem Series
Genre: Angst, Asphyxiation, Drama, Gen, Gender-Neutral Summoner | Eclat | Kiran, Insanity, Minor Violence, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-02
Updated: 2019-08-02
Packaged: 2020-07-29 15:23:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20084428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlpacaSoon/pseuds/AlpacaSoon
Summary: My take on the "meeting Líf in the library" trope.





	Library Grief

“Well, if we have our plan now, let us depart,” Veronica commanded, turning on her heel sharply to lead the way.

“Princess… If you would please,” Kiran suddenly spoke up softly. Veronica glanced sharply back at them, at their downcast expression and the listlessness of the Askr trio around them. “Perhaps we may depart tomorrow? Our Heroes are exhausted and we are… In need of time, to understand the new information given to us.”

“Hmph.” Veronica turned up her nose. “Time is something we do not have, foolish Summoner. But!” She held up a finger when Kiran opened their mouth again to protest. “I shall give you _ one _ night, and go rest back at Askr. I expect you back tomorrow at dawn, or I shall depart without you, not that your miserable powers will do me much good.”

Kiran frowned, but still bent their head. “Thank you. Then, we shall see you tomorrow. Good night.”

* * *

Kiran stared up at the ceiling, unconsciously tapping their fingers against their stomach as sleep evaded them. Perhaps it was the moonless night, or the emptiness of the castle, or the mustiness of the room…

No, it wasn’t that, and they knew that. Kiran sat up. What truly unsettled them wasn’t the bottles of broken ink that lay around their room, nor the tomes that lay spine-up. It was this was _ their _ room, the room of the Kiran that once lived, but it was not untouched. Dark slashes lined the walls, as if a dark sword of frustration had been used against them, and…

They swept their fingers along the bedcovers. They were _ clean, _ as if someone had gone through the work of washing them and changing them weekly in this ruined castle, in preparation for Kiran. But not them. _ Kiran. _

A chill ran down their spine, and they quickly stood up to run from the room, heart jumping. If they weren’t going to get any sleep, then they might as well do some research.

* * *

The quiet decay of the library was almost comforting after the growing agitation from their room. Kiran swept by the books silently, brushing their fingers against their spines, a cloud of dust trailing in their wake like the glow of a specter. Reaching out, they took out a book, blowing dirt off its cover. _ “A Beginner’s Guide to Spells, _ huh?”

“You were so happy when you cast your first spell from that book.”

Kiran didn’t have time to react before a force slammed into their neck, crushing the air from their lungs and preventing them from screaming or even breathing. Líf threw them to the ground, knocking the book from their hands, blazing bloody-red eyes glowing insanely.

“I am going to kill you,” he said slowly, enunciating each syllable carefully, as carefully as one would say _ I love you. _“I am going to kill you, and I’m going to take my Kiran back.”

“Gah—ag—” Kiran choked, hands scrabbling at Líf’s grip around their neck, eyes filling with tears. “Li… Di—”

“Shh.” Líf murmured, leaning over so Kiran could stare straight into his eyes as the life faded from their own. “Don’t waste your breath, struggling and suffering. It will be over soon.”

“Alf…” A pitiful whine rose from Kiran’s throat with the last of their air. “...’m… Sor…”

Líf was almost too late, too late to realize that Kiran had stopped grabbing at his hand and was instead reaching inside their sleeves. He released the summoner, leaping back, but not without a roar of pain as Kiran swung a knife out of the sleeve, dragging a deep gash into his cheek. He hissed, and Kiran collapsed back onto the ground, gasping and heaving, knife dripping with blue blood.

“You…!” He snarled. Kiran coughed, dragging themselves upright to look back at him.

“I… Didn’t…” They coughed again, shivering. “Didn’t… Want… To do…”

“What’s done is done, though.” Líf glared, standing and drawing his sword. “I will end your life here and now.”

“No!” Kiran rasped. “Líf… Alfonse—” he glared at that name, “—whatever, please! Don’t do this!”

_ “Don’t speak for me!” _

“The Alfonse I know would never do something like this!” Kiran sobbed. “Please, I know you’re stronger than Hel’s influence! You never wanted to kill! You only ever wanted to save!”

_ “I AM SAVING!” _ Líf’s voice rose to shrill shriek. _ “BY DOING THIS I’LL BRING EVERYONE BACK!” _

_ “THEN WHY HESITATE.” _ Kiran, rasping, choking, drowning, _ dying, _ screamed back, and Líf staggered back. “Why bide your time with dramatics and suffering when you could just _ end it now.” _

Líf couldn’t answer, eyes wide as Kiran, _ Kiran, _ stared back at him. They pressed on. “You don’t want to kill us,” they said softly, “because you already saw us fall to another’s blade, and you can’t bear to see us reaching for you at the end of your blade.”

He crumbled. “You… Don’t… Please.” He pressed a hand against his cheek, smearing his blood, tearing at his skin. “Kiran… Sharena… Eir… I just…”

“Líf… _ Please.” _ Kiran shook like a leaf in the wind, so fragile. _ “Please. _You’re stronger than this. Won’t you join us? I know we can’t replace—”

_ “NEVER!” _ Líf screamed suddenly, lunging forward and swinging his sword down.

_ Clang. _

Líf gasped. Standing above Kiran’s prone body and blocking his sword with her own lance, was Sharena, emerald eyes blazing like a forest caught in a storm, serenity and strength captured in one.

_ “I won’t let you hurt them,” _ she said, carefully enunciating each word as carefully as one would say _ I love you. _

Líf fell back, but turned to look straight into Eir’s eyes. “Líf…” She murmured. Alfonse stood a little ways behind her, and down the hall he could hear the coming sounds of more people, more Heroes marching forward to protect their precious Summoner.

He swung around once more to glare at Kiran and Sharena. “This isn’t over.”

Then he was gone, melting into the darkness.

* * *

Kiran was oddly pale and silent as Mikoto tended to their neck in the middle of the library. Their dagger lay cast to the side, Líf’s blood still wet upon the blade. Alfonse sat by their side, Sharena and Anna quietly discussing a little ways away. The rest of the 20-something Heroes that came along milled outside, talking amongst themselves, hands gripping their weapons tightly.

“Kiran…” Alfonse said gently, and they jumped. “Sorry…"

They shook their head. Mikoto had commanded them not to speak, as it could worsen the damage already done. Alfonse continued on. “I… I truly am sorry… If only I…”

Kiran shook their head again, reaching out to take his hand, smiling a little bit. At that moment, Mikoto sighed, leaning back.

“Well, I’ve done all I can. Staves aren’t well designed to heal such purposeful damage like this…”

“It’s… Okay. I will… Heal.” Kiran rasped. “Can’t… Sleep though.”

“Honestly… I don’t think I can either.” Alfonse sighed.

Sharena sighed. "I agree with that... My room is covered _ entirely _ in flowers! And not all of them are fresh either! I haven’t gotten a wink of sleep!”

“Really?”

“I have an idea.” Lyn said suddenly from the doorway. “Why don’t we all just sleep together? If everyone is so unsettled sleeping alone in their rooms…”

Everyone paused, looking at each other, mulling over the idea.

“I like that.” Kiran murmured. “Well then…?”

* * *

A rush bustled around the castle as each Hero brought their sheets and pillows straight into the library. Book stacks were pushed aside, Kiran cleaned their dagger and sheathed it so no one would accidentally step on it, and, oddly enough, the night ended in a giant slumber party with fluffy sheets and pillows scattered haphazardly on the floor while the Heroes squabbled with each other.

“Ike…! Don’t sleep so close here!”

“Sorry, Soren…”

“Gods above, Tiki, you’re really warm!”

“I predict a 4.93 percent rate…”

“Lute, quiet.”

Finally everyone settled down, and Kiran found themselves in the middle, squished on all sides, head pillowed by Alfonse’s arm. 

“...This is nice.”

“Mm.” Alfonse squirmed, blushing. “I suppose…”

“Hopefully no one accidentally gets stabbed…”

It quieted as one by one, the Heroes fell asleep, exhausted from the events of the day. Soft snores filled the air, broken occasionally by someone shifting or grunting. Alfonse was drifting off to sleep when he was disturbed by Kiran’s soft, “Hey, Alfonse?”

“Mm?”

“Can you promise me something?”

“Depends.”

“If I… If I die, will you promise that you won’t go down the same path as Líf?”

Alfonse opened his eyes to stare into Kiran’s. They stared back, gaze tender, sleep softening their features. “I won’t let you die.”

“I know… But sometimes our best isn’t enough. Alfonse, _ please, _promise me you won’t crumble like Líf… That you won’t let despair dictate your actions.”

“...I promise.”

“If you’re quite done,” Soren’s terse voice broke the mood, “some of us are trying to rest, so if you don’t shut up and and go to sleep, Líf won’t get the pleasure of killing you himself.”

“Yes, yes…”

_ “Shut up and go to sleep.” _


End file.
